Thief Wing
by A.I.Kemp
Summary: Her sapphire orbs drifted torwards him, a thin, cold mask barely concealing the sympathy behind her eyes. "When you left something behind something so fragile...did you really think it wouldn't break?"
1. Natural Born Thieves Like Shiny Things

_A//N: You've seen these before. They're called Author's Notes, so you can skip it and get straight to the story or read this, it's up to you. First off, I Own NOTHING. I wish I did, cause if I did I'd be fabulously rich and living in Japan hanging out with Miyamoto...but I'm not. So there. _

_Anyway, this is my first real story in ages. I haven't written a fanfic since I was 12. That's a total of five years away from this wonderful site, so please bear with me if things sound funny and off and that the first chapter is so short, I'm out of practice. _

**_Natural Born Thieves Like Shiny Things_**

"Oh dear, uh-oh, oops, haha, you see the thing is…."

Nope, none of these were working for the poor teenager who now found herself pinned beneath the incredibly gross smelling lumbering guard's gorilla arms. She struggled moved, thrashed but nothing was happening. All that happened was the guard bursting out in laughter as he lifted her further off the ground and placed a shiny steel knife to her throat.

Crap.

Now, let's backtrack before some blood is spilled all over the floor shall we? To about, oh say, three hours before all this happened. Back to when the poor girl's awful luck caught up with her...again…

Watching the small white puffs gently drift down to the frozen, fragile earth below, the young teenager sighed, causing her breath to come out in a misty puff. Here she sat, upon the headstone of an unnamed soldier simply waiting and watching in the still and serene yard of graves. Intertwining her gloved fingers together, she shifted slightly in her stone seat. Most would call this disrespectful to use a poor soul's last marking as a personal chair, but this girl had less knowledge about common courtesy than a deranged platypus. And when it came to the dead, well she couldn't care less about such things. Really, dead bodies to her were better used as entertainment. Closing her dark gray eyes for a bit longer than a standard blink, she took in the moment of blissful silence as a slight smile crawled itself across her pale visage. It was a wonderful feeling, having the snow fall upon one's face and melt away, discarding all evidence that it had ever existed.

With a weary sigh, the girl finally stood up, throwing away the quiet moment. Despite her reluctance to do so, it was time to get back to work. She was on a mission, not one that she really wanted to do, of course, but it had to be done. After all, orders were orders. With a casual flick of her hair, she began moving, first at a slow half-walk, half-jog pace and then with each step her speed grew into that of a full on blurring sprint through the graveyard. It was night, nearing dawn, and she had to get this done before the first light. She had an hour, maybe two, tops.

Turning abnormally fast around a particularly sharp corner, her booted feet slid along the snow causing a momentary jump of panic in her chest. She regained her center of gravity by breaking fast with her heels, ice and snow spraying out in all directions as she finally reached her destination: The Royal Tomb of the Kings. Yeah, it was guarded, and yeah…it had tons of amazing loot inside of it. And loot was what she wanted, for Aryll was a true born thief at heart, attracted to anything with even the hint of a shimmer like a magnet to a steel wall.

Well, that wasn't exactly true, Aryll was more like a made thief, ever since that moronic brother of hers left, life had dealt her one bad hand after the next, everything rushing downhill for her at a breakneck speed. By the time she had turned thirteen, not even she could find any trace of the small girl he had left behind. And if he ever returned, neither would he. Did he think before he took off? Did that idiot believe their old grandmother was going to live forever, preserving Aryll's fragile childhood in her wrinkled hands for all eternity?

Apparently the blissfully ignorant idiot did.

Hunkering low behind a particularly large angel statue, Aryll peered carefully over the top of the square base, allowing for her dark irises to scan the surrounding area. She let them narrow slightly in concentration, her brow furrowing against the bitter wind. Glancing down at the stone in her hands, she held it up to her lips. "Rico, what does your eye in the sky see? I need recon here."

"Eye in the sky?" Came a slightly wind-tossed girlish voice from the other end of the connection. "Haha, I get it, that one's really rich, almost as good as beak-head or featherbrain."

Aryll rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean." She hissed into the other end, time was getting shorter (of course, her side trip to the graveyard hadn't exactly helped…).

"Oh yeah of course I know what you meant but that doesn't mean, I, as a Rito, still wouldn't take any offe-"

"Oh Fine! I'll do it myself."

"No no, I got it. You've got three in the back of the guards hut, playing poker. Apparently they don't like the cold…the blond haired one is losing by the way, maybe you ought to give 'em some lesso-"

Shoving the stone back into her pocket, Aryll sighed. Sure, Rico was one of the best partners anyone could ask for but that motor-mouth of hers….

Creeping through the frozen landscape, she moved swiftly and carefully. Snow was good for two things: it blinded your enemies when thick enough and it helped stop sound if it was light enough – but it left tracks. Huffing out a heavy puff of air, she took the steps, three at a time in bounding leaps before pinning herself up against the door-frame, waiting and listening to see if she had been spotted.

Nothing. Kneeling, she went right to work on the padlock. It was rusty and old and obviously hadn't been opened in a long while. Not that she minded, old locks were the easiest thing in the world to pick. Fumbling through the little keyhole with her double tools, she heard the satisfying click as the iron loosened its aged grip. She allowed for a brief grin to cross her features before shoving the tools back into her cargo pockets.

The door creaked open with a light push, causing Aryll to cringe inwardly. That wasn't good.

"HEY!" The stone in her pocket vibrated with a hoarse whisper. "The losing blond guy just heard that you idiot! He's coming your way! Move it!"

A curse bad enough to make anyone on Tetra's pirate ship blush slipped from Aryll's clenched teeth. She dove through the door, quickly letting it fall shut back into place. The guard would definitely notice the padlock, she needed something, anything to block the door.

There it was.

She barreled towards the giant stone coffin standing by the side of the door. Thank god the Royal Family around here had that whole 'kill a knight to act as your eternal guard' superstition. Heaving against the coffin, she pushed and shoved, forcing the thing to move inch by painstaking inch.

The guard's footsteps could be heard coming closer now. Normally she'd just take him out, but that would put the loot in jeopardy and arise suspicion from the other guards. She just needed to buy time. With a grunt she gave one last push, it moved but only a little bit. Fortunately that was enough to block the door somewhat. And something that heavy would take a whole lot more guards to move.

"Oy, are you alright? The Guard's throwing a fit outside the door….aaand now he's running back to the other two. I'd say you have like ten minutes, tops."

"Thank you, Rico." Aryll grumbled, not caring if the stone picked up on that one or not. Even Less time now, brilliant! That was how she liked it good and tough and on the brink of impossibility. Reminded her of her first job. Those were good times.

Aryll took a moment to catch her breath as she flicked some of her blonde locks out from her eyes; she had recently chopped that goofy long ponytail short so that it hovered in wispy layers around her jaw-line. Seriously, spitting out strands of hair during raids like this were a major setback and incredibly annoying.

One last deep breath and she spun around on her black booted heel….

And smashed face first into something hairy and reeking from a severe lack of deodorant. Aryll peeled her face away from the sweaty skin, physically gagging at the stench.

"Well well…" A deep baritone voice cooed as a massive man hand clamped itself over Aryll's face and slammed her up against the wall. "A little thief, and a cute one at that."

Aryll opened her eyes a slit to see mammoth hairy guard before her. He wore no shirt, probably because despite the freezing weather, it was hot as Hell in the tomb. She was grateful that the standard issue armored blue uniform pants were still buckled about his waist. The only thing worse than fat, smelly, shirtless guards were naked ones.

No one had told her a guard would be on duty inside the tomb. Actually, there was no mention of this at all, Intelligence just told her of the guard shack. With a twisted grin, he grabbed her about her throat and pulled her towards him.

And now we bring the story right back to its starting point. The moment where Aryll hovered above the ground, suspended by a meat log of an arm and having to subject her poor nose to a rank smelling dose of extreme body odor. The type of odor that would make any zoo land animal boil with jealousy.

The knife dug deeper into her skin, as the hairy, seven-foot-tall giant smirked. "You know, we're allowed to dispense of thieves right on the spot – no matter how cute or small they are. But you got guts making it this far, so I'll give you a chance to say some last words."

Another pleasant curse slipped from Aryll's mouth, one so bad that the guard actually stammered a bit, his eyes widening. "And take a bath too," she spat.

Now thoroughly angered and slightly embarrassed that he had just been told off by someone who was only 5'4", the man brought his bladed hand back.

Bad move on his part. Taking the chance, Aryll swung her legs forward up and then over the arm that had her pinned to the wall, whereupon she smashed the heel of her foot into the man's elbow. Nimble thing, she was.

The man cried in pain as he dropped to his knees, holding his elbow, she had actually snapped it. No joint should ever bend that way. Dropping to the ground, she didn't stop for a second and spun around for another smashing hit to the man's skull. It connected, his eyes rolled, and he keeled over to the side, landing so loudly on the stone floor that he actually caused the tomb walls to shake.

Aryll stepped away from him, holding her nose. Her clothes were now seeped in that awful smell. She'd have to burn them later. "Ugh…" Shaking her head slightly, she started once again for the main coffin that sat at the center of the room, poised atop a raised portion of the floor.

Stopping before it, she withdrew a small round sphere and shoved it into a center crack lining the coffin lid. No need to be sneaky anymore, the door was already being slammed up against, causing the coffin blocking it to shudder with each hit. Flicking her finger over the wick sticking from the sphere, she jumped back several feet and shoved her fingers into her ears.

KA-BOOM!

Ah, such a glorious sound. Bits of rock and dust flew everywhere, leaving the charred, smoldering remains of what used to be a solid crypt in its wake.

"The Hell was that!?" The stone screeched. "You BLEW It up!? I thought the leader said to be INCONSPICUOUS!"

Aryll frowned, she yanked the stone from her pocket. "There was a guard in here-"

"A guard? What do you mean, the inside is supposed to be empty."

"Exactly, look, I had to take care of him so there's no reason to bother with the sneaky bull. Now would you please shut it so I can get this done with before the door breaks?" Wishing there was some way to click the stone into 'off mode', Aryll dove into the coffin, shoving the slightly flaming corpse out of the way.

She had to pause again in order to clamp her hand once again over her nose. It smelled worse than the guard. Not only was the flesh still rotting but now it was burning, and nothing smelled worse than burning, rotting skin. Trying her best to block it from her mind, she rummaged around the coffin with her free hand.

Bingo. She brought it back out with a large golden jeweled amulet in her hand. She drew the jewel closer to her grinning face, smiling gleefully all the while. "Oh look," she cooed, "it has a birdie on the back. I wonder if it's supposed to be a seagull."

"Aryll! They're almost done breaking it down." The stone chimed again.

Whirling around Aryll faced the door, to see it slowly budging inch by inch as two gloved hands started to snake their way through the entry.

Aw damn. Today just wasn't her day. Nabbing another sphere from her pocket, she flicked the wick and chucked the thing at the door. She could hear some confused murmurs as the pushing stopped. Heheh, idiots.

With another deafening blast, the door flew outwards. Now was her chance, Aryll ran headlong for the door entry.

One of the guards who seemed to be unharmed by the explosion leapt through the ruined door, sword brandished and waiting. He whipped his head angrily around until he spotted Aryll, fleeing in his direction. Jutting a finger out, he bellowed. "You there! Halt!"

In mid-step she paused to grab the limp arm of the shirtless guard, spun around on her heel and actually _threw _the seven foot guard right at the other poor schmooze in her way. The guard stood there stupidly gawking at the body hurtling towards him. It hit him dead on, causing him to topple over beneath the gargantuan amount of weight.

Aryll just kept on going as if nothing happened; she stomped right on over the two men, making sure to grind their faces further into the gritty floor as she passed.

Cold air hit her face once more, causing a slight sting to her cheekbones when she finally emerged from the tomb with the object of interest in hand. Making her way past the other two unconscious guards, she leapt for the coverage of the trees and kept on going further and further into the night until she was positive that there was no one in pursuit.

Slowing to a stumbling halt, she bent over, placing her hands on her knees to suck in the freezing, but much appreciated, winter air into her deprived lungs.

"Dummy, the Boss is going to kill you." The voice, normally coming from the stone, sounded above her as a young girl gently glided down to stand next to her. She folded away her auburn wings and crossed her arms angrily together.

"The boss had –huff- faulty –huff- information," Aryll grumbled, still trying to catch her breath. She glanced up at the red-eyed fifteen year old.

Rico sighed, running her hands furiously through her silver locks. "Did you at least get the stuff?"

Aryll straightened her back out, her breathing now coming to a slow steady rhythm. She flashed the Rito-Sheikah half-breed before her a grin and held up the little amulet. "Like always."


	2. Unnecessary Lectures

Chapter Dos: Coming your way. I got asked a question the other day by a friend who was reading this. They wanted to know what why I made Aryll's eyes gray. The answer is! Cause I couldn't find a set eye color for her anywhere. The official illustrations had them as black, fanworks had them green or blue, one person even put them as brown. So I figured gray was a good medium between all of them.

Disclaimer remains the same; Also, I know the plot is weird with Aryll being a thief and all, but seriously bear with me till at least chapter 5~ Things start picking up by then.

Anyway, I forgot to put in the thing about reviews in the first chapter: I take all Reviews, Flames, good, bad, constructive criticism, everything. So long as I know people are reading my stories, I don't care what type of messages I get :]

Unnecessary Lectures

"_You'll come back, won't you? I can't stay with Gran-Gran forever." Aryll reached forward, grabbing her older brother's tough, calloused hands with her own small ones. As if it were nothing at all, his fingers wrapped around her palms, encompassing them entirely. Only a few years apart and he was already so much taller than she was…so much braver…and so much stronger… _

_Link smiled warmly, giving Aryll's hands a quick, reassuring squeeze. "Of course! The moment we find the new land, I swear I'll be on the first ship home. I'll even send you a letter every week, okay?"_

_Aryll swallowed the nervous lump in her throat, remembering everything that had happened in the last few months. Her entire world had been thrown into chaos – a disaster that had led her older brother down a path he could not return. He had outgrown the tiny rock they had for so long called home – the exact same way he had outgrown her tiny hands. Gripping back she locked her eyes onto his distant gaze, trying desperately to ensure his safe return. "What if I get in trouble again? You'll come back to help me, right? Even if you haven't found anything?"_

"_Hey!" Link grinned, puffing his chest out in an attempt to make himself look stronger than he actually was. "Who do you think you're talking to? I'm the great Link! I'd never abandon my family in need. Don't worry, Aryll. I'll be back so soon you won't even realize I'm gone"_

_Standing there on the dock, she felt his hands loosen their embrace and slide from her weak grasp. Aryll let the wind sweep through her parted hair, carrying with it the scent of the tropics – a heavy aroma of flowers and salted beaches. At that time, as she watched her older brother board the pirate ship bound for a new, strange land, her nine year-old mind really did believe in his promise. He'd be back just as she was starting to miss him. The sails had barely unfurled before she was already dreaming of his homecoming, his face aglow and head filled with brand new stories of adventure, a souvenir for her and Gran-Gran grasped firmly in his hands and a pledge to never wander off again. A month, maybe less and that scene would play out before her, exactly as she had imagined it…after all…He'd promised…._

Snapping her eyes open, Aryll bolted upright in her bed, a cold sweat running down her entire shaking body. She bowed her head, trying to control her breathing as she untangled herself from the mass of twisted covers. Stupid dream. Stupid thoughts. She hated it when her mind took her down memory lane. She already decided to cast away her past, so there wasn't any need to dredge up stupid moments such as that one. With a groan, she finally managed to throw her covers off and onto the wooden floor of the slowly rocking ship as she fell back against her pillow.

Based upon the lighting in her small cramped room, she guesstimated that it was nearing the afternoon hours. That meant she had gotten a total of four hours of sleep since she had returned from last night's graveyard extravaganza. Flicking her blonde hair back out from her eyes, she slung her right arm over her face to block out the intruding light. Just a bit more sleep, that's all she needed.

"HEY ARYLL!!!" With a loud crack, her door flew open, nearly breaking free from its hinges as it smashed against her wall.

Despite such a rude, sudden interruption to her slumber, Aryll didn't actually move from where she laid. Instead, she simply opened one eye into a teeny slit to stare at the doorway. There stood a young teenager, grinning a large smile, too wide for his ashen and narrow face. His pale features greatly contrasted with the shock white mess of hair that fell in a disarrayed halo over his bright red eyes. A Sheikah. And her favorite one at that.

Aryll never even knew they had existed until just a few years ago. But then again, if there were odd races such as the Rito and the Goron traders, wouldn't they have the right to exist as well? They were a secretive race that had lived for years undetected on a desert island located deep in the southern ocean regions. According to their legends, they had once served the royal family of Hyrule, acting as bodyguards and assassins for the King and Queen. Their greatest boast was that they had even had a hand in helping to destroy a giant monster that slithered out of the Gerudo race. Now they were living side by side with them, forming a perfect community of thieves, pirates, assassins and obsessive gamblers. Oh, how they mighty have fallen.

Aryll, who was only ever exposed to an extremely limited number of Hylians had found both these peoples to be strange, but the Gerudo in particular had peaked her interest. The odd thing about them was that they were, for the most part, an all female race. Male birthrates were extremely low to begin with, and it didn't help that the male population was subject to a genetic disorder to which the females were immune. It left affected infants extremely weak at birth, making the survival rate of newborn boys even more dismal than they already were. If she had to guess, Aryll would say that only fifteen percent of the people on the island were male Gerudos. Together with the Sheikah, they made a thriving nation. Stupid Link, how could he have missed them on his worldly voyage? Then again, how could he have missed the eight dozen letters she had sent him, begging for help?

"Nic…What do you want?" She grumbled in a still half asleep stupor.

"Aw, you're no fun. Miss Beakless jumped all the way up to the ceiling and then clung to it like a cat when I woke her up." The Sheikah, now known as Nic, stretched his already too large grin even further as he said this in his boyish, accented voice. "By the way! I heard that you smelled so bad when you came on board last night, that the boss actually threw you off the ship to soak the stench off. Now come on, be honest, did that actually happen?"

"Still didn't answer my question. It had better be good 'cause I'm in a bad mood."

Nic puckered his bottom lip, looking thoroughly disappointed."Hmph, calm down. Yeesh, what did you have a bad dream again?"

"Nic…."

"Okay, Okay!" He held up his hands to signal his defeat on the matter when he got her coming glare. "I, the amazingly glorious Nic, have been sent on a special mission, because you know I am quite glorious-"

"Get to the point."

Nic sighed, his grin finally fading. Aryll just never had a sense of humor anymore. She did when she first arrived, but over the years it was as if a mosquito had sucked it dry. "The boss wants you."

Aryll frowned. There goes any and all hope of getting at least half the recommended hours of sleep. Scrambling out from her bed, she didn't even bother to change out from her slightly torn, and oddly enough, singed gray pajamas, but simply padded barefoot from the room after Nic.

After several moments of an awkward silence, Nic glanced back at Aryll, letting out a low whistle. "Your hair looks wonderful today, kind of like a bunch of dead palm leaves sticking out of the sand, you know?"

"And your old man hair is as combed as ever, Nic," Aryll grumbled in reply, self-consciously threading her fingers through her hair in a poor attempt to comb it. She could recall years ago when she had been frantic about her appearance, refusing to come out of her room unless she was fully dressed and wearing something girly and blue. Of course, she considered that to be a part of her that she had stuffed in a duffle bag and sold to a seedy looking merchant for half a rupee after she had spent three days with Nic, Suri and Rico, her reject group of short-bus training partners.

"There we go! That's my Aryll." He laughed, grinding his fist into her recently straightened hair to muss it up again. "OOOH! That reminds me! I, the amazing Nic (Oh, and Suri), stole the greatest loot ever!"

Aryll frowned, letting her eyes drift to the side. Nic's energy was just too much in the morning, thank God Suri wasn't here with him. That'd just make things oh so much wors-

"That's Right!"

And all of Aryll's hopes for a normal morning were suddenly dashed into a thousand tiny shards, as a coffee colored hand joined in with Nic's to mess her hair up even more.

"Yeeeaaah Ahahaa! We made ten grand last night! Which means one grand for each of us!" A redheaded woman had appeared at Nic's side. Her skin looked incredibly dark next to Nic's pale pallor. It was like a clash of two cultures, one desert like and bubbling with life, the other as shadowy and near death as Charon of the River Styx. Suri twirled her long, slender fingers through her burgundy locks , the thick strands pulled into a ponytail that fell smoothly down her back and towards her waist. "How much did the world's one and only Outset Islander make, huh?"

Breathing in deeply, Aryll took a moment to steady herself, reminding her ever tired mind that Suri and Nic were different, and didn't function like normal, sane people would after only a few hours of sleep (Not that they really ever acted normal). She mumbled her response out of the side of her mouth, avoiding direct eye contact with the two oddities before her. "Royal's Amulet."

"Eh? What was that?" The Sheikah-Gerudo duo spoke at the same time as leaned in closer to Aryll, craning their heads.

"Royal's Amulet." Aryll repeated, continuing to walk down the hall of the cramped ship.

"….WHAT!?"

For a good long minute, Suri and Nic simply gawked at Aryll. And then as if something snapped in their fragile and simple little minds, they suddenly whirled away from her to huddle themselves in a corner of the hallway, they're backs turned as if to create a wall between them and the tired Ayrll.

"Hey, that's impossible, right?" Suri muttered to Nic, cupping her hand over the side of her mouth like that would prevent the Hylian from hearing their conversation.

"Yes, yes, completely impossible." Nic whispered back, imitating Suri's hunched over mouth cupped pose to perfection. How did they do that?

"Right, 'cause the amulet went missing fifty years ago," Suri hissed back.

"Never to be found again as they say."

"Never, ever, especially since there isn't any way a scrawny little Outsetter could out thieve us." Suri nodded her head as she said this, looking as if she had just pointed out something as important the truth behind the dinosaur's disappearance.

"I can hear you, ya know…" Aryll sighed, massaging her temples in irritation.

"CanNOT!" Nic called back before he turned his ADD mind back to Suri. "Exactly, which means…"

"Which means that…" Suri's eyes suspiciously drifted back to Aryll before snapping over to Nic once more. What was she even suspicious about?

Their expressions hardening into that of a serious pair of private-eyes, Nic and Suri pivoted around to Aryll so quickly that their ridiculous movements were almost untraceable. "Which means!" They chimed in unison, as they jutted their index fingers at her accusingly "that you are a liar!"

"Ah…." Was all Aryll said as her eyes closed to half-mass. So that was their conclusion? "S'not that hard actually," she slurred sleepily, "If you really think about it, the location of the amulet is pretty simple. The late king adored his youngest son even more so that the crowned prince. But, the son was extremely ill and weak all the time. To ease his son's so called pain, the king gave him the amulet as a gift. There isn't a picture out there of the son that doesn't show him wearing the thing around his neck. When the son eventually died, the king slipped the amulet into his coffin, secretly giving up the family treasure for that which he cared for most." Aryll leaned casually against the wall of the ship before continuing her explanation.

"Since the son was the youngest of thirteen other brothers, and thus last in line, his funeral was a small, private affair held only amongst the close royal family. So his burial site has always been a mystery to the general public. As a matter of fact, the citizens of his kingdom didn't even know the son had died until a week after the funeral. Not that they really cared, it was always common practice that the youngest in the family be cast aside when it comes to the public eye. They only ever care for the crowned prince and current King and Queen…" She let her voice trail off for a moment, quietly considering what kind affect this sort of system had on her tiny island of assassins and their bank accounts. No doubt a family of politicians hidden away from the public eye could make use of her merry little band of thieves (which may explain their current leader's wealth). Snapping her mind back to the subject at hand, she continued on. "Anyway, after some research; I discovered a civilian's cemetery with three armed grave keepers. Naturally, this caught my eye. Graveyards almost always have just one, two at most. But this had three armed ones, so I looked into it.

"A few weeks in the library and it all made sense. The King would, of course, only entrust a few select people with his favorite son's grave location. You know, out of fear that grave robbers would pillage his tomb. Posting too many guards also would bring unnecessary attention to the site as well. So it was blatantly obvious that that was where the amulet would be. And then, once you get past the three guards, and the hidden fourth one that was actually inside the tomb, getting the amulet is a cinch."

Aryll's detailed and well thought out explanation was rewarded with a dumbfounded stare from the Sheikah-Gerudo partners. Walking up to them, she smiled sweetly and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. "Don't worry though, since I'm still in debt to the boss, Rico and I won't be getting the one hundred grand cut we should have received. Plus I'm certain that you would've eventually figured it out on your own." Giving them a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder once again, she walked on ahead of them, whistling a merry tune to herself.

Aryll continued down the hall on her own, listening to the incoherent babble from Nic and Suri. She'd known them for over six years, ever since they were about thirteen. Her ten-year-old mind, already exhausted from culture shock and two near-death experiences, could barely keep up with their flamboyant personalities. Over time, however, she had adjusted and even (dare she say?), started to like them. Of course, that didn't mean that they still didn't exhaust her from time to time.

Reaching the end of the hall, she stood in front of a thick door. Her calloused hand reached for the brass knob, hovering for a moment over its dark green, ornate carvings. Aryll would be lying if she said she wasn't reluctant to see the boss. Her relationship with Commander Isra had been…less than stellar the last couple of years. Isra hadn't been impressed Aryll at all in her younger years, and whatever standing she had gained was sent crashing down in flames of unredeemable failure when she and Rico were fourteen. While most leaders would be beyond impressed with last night's steal, Aryll would be lucky to leave with so much as a "good job." In fact, she was more likely to get chewed out for letting that fourth guard get the best of her.

Taking a steadying breath, she rapped on the door three times. Commander Isra's bored voice sounded through the heavy wood, beckoning her to enter. Pulling on the door, she peeked her blonde head in, gray eyes immediately locking onto the large desk at the end of the room. Rico already stood just a little off center, her long silver hair pulled into a sloppy braid. The bags under her eyes and disheveled manner in which she wore her clothing sang a sad tale of her late morning awakening at the hands of Nic and Suri.

Taking her place next to her partner, Aryll stood in a semi-attentive manner before her leader. Commander Isra glanced up from the report she held in her hand, her blood red orbs scanning over the two young thieves before her. She really was everything the leader of the island of Malebolge needed to be. Smart, cunning, strong and filled with an insatiable desire for money, Isra was more than a force to be reckoned with. She had, in her earlier days, pulled of heists that others had only dreamed about – she even turned the tides of looming wars with her assassinations. By the age of twenty-five she had already secured her position as the next leader. At twenty-seven she was already sitting snuggly in the commander's cushioned chair, a sly smile playing on her beautiful features.

Accepting the sluggish salute from Rico and Aryll, Isra let the file fall from her hand, the papers hitting the desk with a dull smacking sound. This was not good. "So," the young woman began, leaning back in her leather chair, "I understand you had a little bit of trouble with the guard count, Aryll." Before she could even answer, the commander stood, her long white locks sweeping out behind her in a brilliant Gerudo styled ponytail. The half-bred woman raised a coffee colored hand and held her chin for a brief, thoughtful moment, as if trying to decide whether or not she was angry with their resident Hylian.

"Well," she continued, "I suppose that's to be expected, after all, your library research could only get you so far. Points for the move with the coffin, though. As for you, Rico," she snapped, suddenly turning on Aryll's partner, "I would have expected better of your scouting skills, especially since you don't have a ridiculous beak getting in the way of your line of sight." Rico flinched, her slender human nose reddening in embarrassment. Being a half-breed wasn't always a good thing…

Before Aryll could even flash her a look of sympathy, Commander Isra rounded back on her, a sudden angry look overtaking her features. "Of course, she managed to stay out of harm's way. You on the other hand, Aryll, failed to make your heist in complete silence. Word of the missing amulet has no doubt already reached the royal family's ears. I'll have to wait a good three years before I can even consider selling this thing on the black market." Isra finished her rant by slamming her open palm onto the desk, leaning in towards the nervous looking duo.

"W-well," Rico broke in, "you could use it for trade value, you know? You know, use it to help seal a contract or something?"

"I might as well melt it down and scrap it if I'm going to make a stupid move like that," Isra spat back, "Selling it openly would put me at less risk for being traced to its theft. There's no client or contractor alive that I would trust with that sort of dirt." She narrowed her glowing orbs, locking them on Aryll, who was doing her absolute best to direct her gaze towards the suddenly fascinating floor. "Are you taking this seriously, Aryll?"

"Of course I am," she responded in a tired voice, "look, there was no way around it. We both came back in one piece, so just go ahead and hang onto it for a couple more years and then try selling it. We'll eat whatever interest you want."

Isra laughed aloud. "Interest? I suppose I can do something like that. After all, what's another two years of putting up with you two, screwing up every important heist I give you?"

"With all due respect, ma'am, you aren't giving us nearly enough credit," Aryll cut in, her voice suddenly sharp with irritation, "if that were the case, we'd be long dead. We've simply had a few slip ups in the last couple of years. Give us another chance and we'll land something worthwhile. Maybe give us some back up next ti – "

"The last time I gave you back up they came back in a box!" The commander stopped short at the sight of Aryll's expression. In a rare moment of regret, she breathed a low sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger. "Look, Aryll…just be more careful on the next job, alright? If you need back up, I'll send Nic and Suri in next time. How does that sound?"

Aryll was quiet for some time, her mind and heart miles away and three years buried in the sands of yesterday. "…Alright...Commander…"

"We are heading for home base now to restock and resupply. You will get your next heist then…Dismissed," Isra said wearily as she sat back in her chair. Aryll turned, Rico following uneasily in her wake as they headed towards the door. Her hand had barely grasped its metal knob before she was stopped once more. "And Aryll…I'm sorry." Without responding, she opened the door and stepped out into the dark hall.


End file.
